Obviously ridiculous Or vice versa?
by Jubilee7
Summary: This is ridiculous. She solved a case in ten minutes the happy idiots couldn't solve in two days! What the hell is she doing in the ER' The more he tries to ignore her, the more he notices her. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note**: Okay here goes my first House M.D. story. If you think it's too out of character, or have any suggestions for style, plot lines and such, please do review! But no flames, they're just useless, and believe me my retort will _not_ be nice. I also apologies for any medical atrocities. I did my research, but internet is far from being a foolproof search tool. It starts case-centered in order to introduce the story, so if your not medically hell-bend, fear not.

**Disclaimer**: Obviously House M.D. is not mine, otherwise it would be House/Cameron through and through (I mean what are the writers waiting for!?)

**Obviously ridiculous. Or vice versa?**

'Tough case?'

It was lunch break. Cameron was sipping her well deserved coffee at the cafeteria.

'Do you recall any easy case with House?'

Foreman was sitting across Cameron, frowning over a patient's folder.

'Right. So what is it?'

'Pathergy reaction, skin lesions, what seems to be a burgeoning mouth ulcer and fever off the roof. The most inexplicable is the on and off weird and seemingly completely unrelated coughing, and the occasional blacking out. Thank God the patient is knocked out by House's drug cocktail by now. Constantly asking whether she's going to die. As if we weren't pressured enough. Especially Thirteen actually. And House isn't helping.'

'House went to see the patient?' Cameron asked incredulous, leaning over the table.

'Eventually, yeah, he did. It is a pretty weird case after all. At least the toughest I had since I'm back.

'So what did House say?'

'To the patient?' Cameron nodded. '_Well of course you're going to die. Who doesn't._' Foreman mimicked. He sighted heavily, dropping the folder on the table and leaning forward, head dropped.

'May I?' Cameron asked, already tugging the folder towards her.

'Sure. Go for it'

Cameron smiled sympathetically to Foreman. He looked exhausted. She knew he wasn't the most caring of all doctors (apparently she still had the golden palm for that) but she knew that despite his detachment saving the patient was his ultimate goal. What's more Cameron was sure House wasn't helping and probably berating his team endlessly.

She frowned, concentrating on the list before her.

'What are your theories so far?'

Foreman propped his jaw in his hands.

'Everything from food poisoning to brain tumor. All results were either negative or unrelated.' Foreman smirked. 'No Lupus though. My colleagues seem to cherish their lives more than extending a diagnosis to extremes. Though I've just tested for cancerous cells from the guy' sputum. Maybe a developing laryngeal or trachea cancer. I'm waiting for the results.'

Silence settled again, Foreman staring at the folder and Cameron still frowning over it, until she spoke.

'What about Behçet's disease.'

Foreman raised a quizzical eyebrow. Cameron continued.

'The stress of his failing immune system would explain his high fever, as well as the coughing. And the pathergy reaction, skin lesions, and mouth ulcer are not uncommon to Behçet's. The black outs could be due to eye inflammation. I admit it's a little farfetched since she doesn't have the appropriate background nor history, but not impossible.'

'Exactly. It's way too farfetched. Nothing fits her background nor history. I know you're the immunologist here, but face it, it's more then unlikely.' Foreman drew another long sight. 'No harm in checking though. Where we're at I could try anything out.'

He looked at Cameron, who was still frowning over the folder, a gentle smile across his features.

'You miss it, don't you? The challenge, solving the puzzle.'

Cameron snapped the folder shut, slightly glaring at Foreman. Then her face relaxed into a light smile, her gaze dropping to the folder again.

'I can't say I don't. I like the ER, having to rush for the correct diagnosis, the satisfaction of saving lives or simply helping. I don't have time to get attached to the patients, which is a good lesson for me, and I still get to help them.' She marked a short pause. 'But I have to admit that when a case is slightly more complicated than the others I can't help going into detective mode. I like the thrill of the challenge, as small as it might be, and it generally lightens up my day.'

They were both smiling, Cameron's gaze still on the folder and Foreman's locked on her. Then she snapped playfully.

'But don't you dare tell House any of this. It'll make his day and he'll come down more often to tease and prod, interfering with my work and annoy the nurses.'

'Yeah. Can't help but notice how House has suddenly found the ER interesting.' Foreman was fully grinning now. 'Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me.' Then he stood up. 'I have to go back to the lab. They probably have the results by now. I'll check your theory, too. Thanks for the help. I'll let you know about the results.'

Foreman waved at her with the folder and marched out. Cameron waved back and downed the rest of her now cold coffee. She couldn't help but envy Foreman a little. Every time a case couldn't be solved in the ER, it was dispatched to another department, away from her.

. . .

Foreman was walking fast towards the lab, tapping the folder on his thigh. How come none of them had thought of Behçet's? Well maybe House did. You never know what he's thinking. Though if even _him _didn't throw it in their differential diagnosis brain storm, then he too probably found the idea completely off tracks (or 'moronic' as he would label it). Sure the idea was (very) farfetched. Yet plausible. What if Cameron was right? House would go ballistic, and Foreman would make sure not to miss this.

More than that, he couldn't help but feel slightly jealous of Cameron. The team had been working on this case for almost two and a half days (plus nights) and Cameron came up with a diagnosis in less then ten minutes? She was the immunologist after all, but still. Foreman knew she was an excellent doctor, and couldn't help thinking that she was being wasted in the ER. He was proud he had worked with her.

He pushed the doors to the lab open. A lab technician immediately approached him with the results, which Foreman almost snatched out of his hands. Negative. Again. Damn it. Start over from square one, _yet again_. Foreman sat down in front of the computer. He had half a mind to punch the answer out of the key board. 'Well, time to test your theory Dr. Cameron.'

'Which theory?' Enquired the lab technician. Was he still here?

'Behçet's disease.' Foreman groaned out.

The lab technician snorted in disbelief.

'Right. She does know that you are treating an American woman who has never set foot out of the country?'

Foreman glared at him. 'You got a better idea, genius?'

The lab technician scrammed out of the room, muttering a sheepish excuse.

. . .

Forty five minutes later Foreman stared at the computer screen, eyes bulged out of their sockets. Then his face morphed into a stupidly wide grin. Oh boy, this was going to be fun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Thanks to all the reviewers!**

**Disclaimer: House, M.D. and all its characters are not mine. Otherwise something would be done about the lack of Cameron in the last season and the annoyingly increasing Huddy. (I like House Cuddy friendship, though. Wilson and Cuddy make House's only two and real friends).**

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'Where the hell did you get your medical degree! Inside a Happy Meal?! Go do the tests again! NOW!'

To say that Dr House was in a foul mood is an understatement. The team had been working on this nonsensical case for almost three days, and nothing, niet, nada, rien. Hence him terrorizing his ducklings 2.0, and in the process, the entire floor. Not being able to solve a puzzle was upsetting enough. Having the disgusting sensation of missing something out was downright maddening. Add to that a bunch of dweebs who had to be told each and everything to do, House was loosing it.

'Where the hell is Foreman!'

Foreman could hear House as soon as the elevator doors opened. He was thoroughly enjoying his current predicament. He had the answer while House did not. After years of desperate attempts, he was finally rewarded. With a knowing smirk, Foreman had found a new definition to the word 'bliss'. However for the sake of his teammates, he'd shorten the suspense. He pushed open the doors of the conference room and immediately three pairs of helpless eyes and a murderous one shifted towards him.

'Where the hell have you been! It doesn't take that long to screw Cuddy, does it?'

Foreman knew he would be yelled at, and patiently waited for the ranting to end.

'It's Behçet's'.

'…'

'You were screwing Behçet?! And here I was pretty sure he was dead.'

Foreman rolled his eyes.

'The case, House. The patient has Behçet's disease.'

Foreman had barely finished that House had already snatched the folder out of his hand.

'That's insane! How could she possibly have Behçet's! She's never been to the Middle East, hasn't been in contact with someone having been there, _and _it's not hereditary!' Kutner snapped.

'Though hypothetically, it does fit the symptoms.' Thirteen interjected, taken aback by the sudden realization. Taub simply rubbed his hands over his face and groaned.

'And what made you think it was Behçet's, pray tell?' House was scrutinizing the folder, rapidly scanning each and every test results.

'Actually I didn't. Cameron did.'

'…'

'…'

They stared at Foreman like he had suddenly announced he'd become white. Foreman was having a very difficult time maintaining a poker face, fighting the same goofy grin that had plagued him in the lab only minutes ago. Years of waiting to surprise House, and the result was priceless. If only Cameron had been here. He could boast about it to Chase later.

'Excuse me?' Taub finally spoke. The group was slowly coming back to life, but their expression still competed with one of those tiny marsupials with saucer eyes.

'You told her about the case? I know it's nothing confidential, but still…' Kutner trailed off. Foreman understood his disappointment. It was frustrating having done all this work for someone else to nonchalantly come up with the answer.

'Wow…' was all Thirteen could utter. 'How did she know?'

Before Foreman could even start explaining his meeting with Cameron at lunch, House cut him off.

'Because _she _obviously did _not _get her medical degree from a Happy Meal.' he snapped.

To Foreman slight disappointment, House didn't go any further and simply went back to glaring holes in the tests results. He had watched his boss like a hawk for any trace of flitting emotions, but so far, apart from the glare, nothing had changed. But surely any minute now…

'This is ridiculous.' House muttered before storming out of the room.

_Finally!_ Foreman let loose of his grin. He knew it would be interesting. He bolted after House. The rest of the team exchanged glances, then quickly got up to follow after them.

House was hobbling as fast as cripply possible, Foreman right beside him.

'You better wipe that grin off your face before I do it myself.' House muttered, still looking straight ahead. Foreman only chuckled in response.

'What do you think he's going to do to her?' Kutner whispered.

'Whatever happens, I'm putting my money on Cameron.' Thirteen whispered back.

'I'd say that in his condition, House would bulldozer anybody standing against him.' Taub said.

'Don't you have a patient to treat?'

The three of them froze when House barked at them.

'But… Are we treating her for Behçet's? Don't you want to check if-' Kutner began.

'Already did. Go treat her while she can't talk.'

..…………………………........................

Before House could howl at the poor nurse, Foreman politely asked if she knew where Cameron was. As soon as she was spotted House darted towards her.

'Instead of stealing _my _cases and bribing your ex-colleague into it, why don't you admit defeat and-'

'House. How nice of you do drop by. If don't mind terribly much, sit down while I finish sewing Zach's knee.'

House judged that he did not have to be second to an 8 year old sniffling little boy for Cameron's attention. He hopped on the bed right next to Zach, who was desperately trying to inch away from him.

'House.' Cameron glared at him.

'I did as you said, so hurry up and finish this.'

'Why are you here?' Cameron sighted with exasperation.

'What made you think it was Behçet's?'

Cameron paused mid finishing swipe.

'So it _was _Behçet's?'

'Yes, congratulations. Glad to see that the ER hasn't yet sucked all the knowledge I poured in that pretty very little head of yours. Now if you want to escape the intellectual dullness of the ER, I suggest you revisit your contract with Cuddy instead of using Foreman to smuggle in cases for you and feed your brain's hunger. And you better do it fast because said brain will soon revert to that gooey bundle of ignorant niceness you had when you first graced this hospital with your presence.'

'You know you could just say 'thank you'. Now that I don't work for you anymore, there is no danger in showing a hint of gratitude.'

'As you so rightly say you _don't _work for me anymore. So stop stealing my cases.'

'I did not steal your case! Foreman only spoke about it over lunch and I suggested Behçet.'

Cameron had finished with Zach and ushered him back to his mother. She was busy reassembling the sewing supply on a metallic tray. House took in her appearance. Her bun was threatening to come undone, her sleeves were rolled up over her elbows, and her light make up couldn't conceal the dark rings under her eyes. Her gesture was quick and precise, focused. So Cameron-like, he thought, and strangely this thought only accentuated his annoyance.

'So you resort to playing differential diagnosis during lunch? Now that's just sad.'

'Maybe I _would _like to come back and _play_ in diagnostics, but maybe I actually don't because I'm not keen on going back taking all your crap!' Cameron exploded. 'I'm very grateful that I worked with you. I learned more than I ever did. And I now learn a lot working in the ER. If I want to continue perfecting my medical skills I need to accumulate as much experience as possible-'

'Oh cut the crap. What do you learn about gluing back drunkards out of car accidents! How stupid people can be? Tell them not to do it again?'

'I HELP! I'm being efficient while figuring what I want to do next!'

They stood glaring at each other, letting the words sink in.

She had let out that she didn't actually want to stay in the ER. He certainly didn't miss that slip.

Cameron picked up the tray and proceeded to walk away.

'I believe you have a patient to treat, and I'm still on the clock, so I'll leave you here.'

'Yes. Wouldn't want to distract you while you retrieve a marble from a leaky 6 years old snot with his mother wailing for her brat' survival, because _that _surely necessitates your undivided wits. It's disappointing to think that you've trained the best doctors only to find out they've joined the hospital' sewing club.'

They kept their eyes on each other, ice blue against tormented green. Then House hobbled off, trying to ignore the pain in her eyes.

Cameron stood rooted to her spot for a second, then snapped back to reality and swiftly walked away.

She'll always be amazed at how well he could praise and insult in a same sentence.

………………………………......

'Are you going to talk or do I have to switch on my telepathic mode?'

She was snappy. She always is around him. Good. He could get what he wanted faster when she was snappy.

'Why are you glaring at me like that? I haven't done anything!'

'Yet.'

House started tapping his cane on the floor. He watched her close her eyes, probably trying to come up with a good reason not to rip him a new one. Then she threw her pen on her desk and reclined in her leather chair.

'You being here only means two things. One, you're upset and went to Wilson to sulk, but he threw you out. Two, you're upset about something you cannot obtain. I refused that you electrocute your patient, I'll refuse again.'

House frowned at that. He had wanted to electrically stimulate the blabbering freak's brain in order to explain the black outs. The fact that she wouldn't have been able to utter a comprehensible word for a few hours was only a bonus.

'The patient is just fine. She has Behçet's disease. The monocephalic dimwits that have been uselessly working on her case for two days are treating her as we speak.' House picked up his cane-tapping again.

'So… Your patient is not dead. She's actually being treated… You'll excuse my ignorance but I fail to grasp the issue here. You saved the day once again, didn't you? So what's wrong?'

Taptaptaptaptap.

'What… don't tell me… YOU're not the one who figured out the diagnosis?!' Cuddy was gasping, her mouth wide open, still waiting for words to come out.

'Oh, will you stop that! I have no interest in your glottis and you'll end up choking on a fly.'

'What happened?! I mean… how-'

'Cameron suggested it.'

'Cameron? You asked her about the case?'

'NO! Foreman talked to her, and she just threw Behçet's as an idea.'

'And she was right.'

'She _guessed_, ok?! She got lucky. I mean… This is ridiculous! She solves a case in ten minutes the happy idiots couldn't figure in two days?! What the hell is she doing in the ER!'

'You want to hire her back?'

'Well Thirteen doesn't respond to sexual harassment-'

'HOUSE!'

'She doesn't want to come back.'

'…'

'Is it me or did you just come here to whine? I should consider giving Wilson a raise.'

'Why, he spanks better than I do?'

'Because in addition to his actual job, he's your 24/7 nanny!'

House caned-tapped the carpet a few more times, then got up and left, leaving his boss to squeeze the life out of her chair's armrests (if only she had laser beam eyes).

Let's try Wilson again.

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**So what do you think? Was the tension good enough? And the humor? I'm paranoid about the humor. Please review, helps me improve my writing! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note****: First of all, HAPPY NEW YEAR! I'm sorry it took so much time to get this chapter up, I went back home for the holidays and didn't take the time to post.**

**Thanks to all the reviewers! You guys keep me going! However I would like to point out to Huddys fans (and one in particular) that this fic is explicitly HouseCam, so I don't understand why you bother reading it. I respect other fandoms, but if you feel like ranting, go do sports. It's healthier. For everyone.**

**Finally I dedicate a line of this chapter to Limaccia for a great idea. He or she will know which one.**

**Disclaimer****: I don't own House M.D. nor any of it's characters (this is getting tiresome).**

**. . . . .**

Cameron threw her bag next to the coat rack then shut the door with a little more force than necessary. Still wearing her coat she plopped herself unceremoniously on the couch. She had put so much energy in finishing her shift, changing and running back home that she didn't have the strength to do anything just yet. She covered her face with one hand and groaned loudly.

They had lost a patient this afternoon. A teenager. He was skating with his friends and ended up impaled on a fence. By the time he got to the ER he had lost an enormous amount of blood , and despite the three hours that Cameron and her team worked on him, he didn't make it. That's how easily he died. Three hours they had tried. For nothing. On the other hand she had enabled to cure a woman she knew nothing of, apart from her medical file.

How ironic could it be.

Maybe she wasn't fit for the ER.

_No. Don't even go there._ Doubting is _not _going to help the situation. She has proven her worth countless times. She has gained respect for her professionalism and skills. She has saved many lives. Losing patients is part of the job, especially in the ER. She would _not_ revert to doubt. She had work too hard to overcome her insecurities, so why go back there now.

_Oh, come on. You know why._ It hadn't been a stellar month. The ER had been a great change at first, but it has practically been a year now, and it was starting to get its toll. She had settled in a routine. However, the ER is anything but a routine. More like an emotional and intellectual roller coaster. One minute you're bored out of your mind treating an endlessly rambling woman who had been speaking on the phone, ironing her blouse and drying her nail polish all at the same time, and had ended up burning her stomach, because she had only been wearing her underwear and had been shocked by her 'oh-my-god-can-you-believe-it-I-mean-like-totally' conversation with her friend. Next thing you know you're abandoning the multitasking chick to rush to the dying family who's car has been crushed by a truck. Hardly the steadiest of routines. Sure, occasionally you had a good laugh because of a stuttering middle aged man who 'accidentally' sat on one of his kids big color markers, or the teenager who managed to staple his nose. Those moments were rare, though. Having to deal with death that you knew how to avoid because the diagnosis was crystal clear but you didn't have enough time to save the person, those stupid deaths, these were the most difficult to cope with. And unfortunately not uncommon.

For once Cameron let herself wallow in self pity. Her job, her 'time-out' with Chase. The couple had also settled down in a routine, despite their hectic jobs. But for Cameron, that wasn't enough. Or more exactly she was content with just that. Until Chase had to talk about moving in together, settling in, perhaps even moving away from Princeton. The idea hit her hard. And beyond that, all the planning Chase was slowly but surely pushing for, Cameron found herself struggling with an issue she thought she had overcome. Her lack of trust. And Chase hadn't been blind to it. She had tried very hard, had spend hours talking herself over her husband's death, that something similar was not bound to happen again. All the stalling, it wasn't only because of her past, of how damaged she was. No, it wasn't just that.

If she was absolutely honest with herself there was only one major obstacle preventing her from leaving. One gruff, 6'2'' with stunning blues eyes obstacle. Cameron thought many times of leaving Princeton, but the thought of never seeing House again was more unbearable than the dull pain she felt every time they were close. She knew what it felt like not being able to see the one you love and being powerless to change the situation. Now, if she tried hard enough she managed to stop herself from drowning in his eyes. Of all the controlled composure she mastered throughout the years when facing House, those magnetic eyes were her biggest challenge.

Not for the first time, she had felt this control slip away this afternoon. The most difficult aspect of being around House was that she never felt indifferent. She could be angry, mesmerized, annoyed, shocked, hopeful, helpless, but never indifferent. Once again this afternoon he had thrown her off with just a few words.

_It's disappointing to think that you've trained the best doctors only to find out they've joined the hospital' sewing club. _No matter how hard she tried she could never protect herself from House. Every time he threw her off her painfully built emotional balance, she had to pick up her feelings and tried to rearrange them in a way not to get worked up the next time they met. It was always the same vicious circle. He'd give her hope than blow her off, which ended up in doubting and self-reevaluation. She was getting tired of it. She was getting tired of everything. She wondered when she would collapse, and she couldn't even be bothered to anticipate a solution.

**. . . . .**

House threw his backpack and jacket in the general direction of the coat rack before slumping down on the couch. The end of the day had been downright shitty. Wilson had thrown him out again, only summoning him to 'talk to her'. Despite his abrasive nature, House wouldn't push Wilson too far for a while. He was well aware that he had been desperately close to losing his best friend, and for once in his life he would be mindful of his behavior towards another human being.

Every time he had failed to avoid Cuddy, she smirked evilly like she had some dirt on him before barking to get his ass down in the clinic. Foreman too kept on smirking, which did nothing to improve House's mood. The only people he had successfully avoided were the rest of his team, who had spent the rest of the day treating their patient and being useless in general.

_Talk to her. _Right. What the hell was he suppose to say? Besides was there anything to say at all? He meant what he had said. She had nothing to do in the ER. Even she acknowledged it. He merely voiced out what they both already knew. A little forcedly. As usual. Every time he was around her his mouth took over his brain and he always ended up blurting something mostly hurtful and generally tactless . He could never remain cool headed around her. She was a constant distraction. She'd either be annoying, intriguing, beautiful, or just… there. Every time he managed to figure her out, she would come up with the most unbelievably uncharacteristic thing to say to whack him on the head. Like when she said that a threesome every seven years might actually help a marriage. Now _that_ had thrown him in for loop. Even two. When he thinks of it she was probably the only person able to render him speechless.

Things were bound to change now that she was working in another department. But now she solved cases before he did?! Was the earth still going round?! Get a grip man!

House sat up, rubbed his hands over his face, then got up to sit down back again in front of his piano. His fingers skidded lightly over the keys, not playing anything in particular.

If he were honest, it wasn't really surprising that Cameron came up with a diagnosis after having spoken with Foreman. They were more in sync when working together than the new team, so a ten minutes discussion over lunch was probably more constructive than all the fussing and brain storming that went on these last days.

The past month had been rather hectic. Wilson coming back, his father's death, the whole ordeal with Cuddy. House wasn't the type of guy to dwell on feelings but it might be time to sort his out if he wanted to stop doing stupid things and concentrate back on work. To top it off his team was starting to get a little too comfortable to his liking with their tendency to wait for either him or Foreman to tell them what to do in order to avoid getting on the wrong tracks. When his previous team started out they were cautious as well, but the Vista version was getting downright assisted, and he couldn't have that. He needed quick minded autonomic employees. There was a limit to guidance.

House finished Rhapsody in Blue and proceeded to his bedroom. He had done way too much thinking tonight and he needed some sleep. He'll talk to Wilson again tomorrow. Just what the hell was he supposed to tell her? Apologies? Would that make the earth go round again?

**. . . . .**

**Thanks for reading. And please review! Thanks in advance!**

**I'm sorry if some of you find this chapter boring, but I wanted to establish Cameron' set of mind, how tired and confused she is, and how close to cracking she is.**

**Also, I have nothing against the new team, so sorry if it comes out as bashing, but it was needed to portray House's annoyance.**


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